Solitary Confinement

The Social Worker

Isolation has never been a foreign concept to me. In fact, it seemed to welcome me with wide open arms more times than I'd like to admit. My life consists of being alone and constantly surrounded by an abundance of strangers, but I'd never felt included. Every now and then, I'd try imagining what it'd be like to live a normal life, with a normal family, in a normal town. Things don't always come that easily to everyone though. But I, Olivia Barnaby, of course had to figure that out the hard way.

"Olivia, you in there?" a voice sounded from the other side of my beaten up, old wooden bedroom door. "Olivia, open up!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," were the only words that I sullenly uttered. Reaching for the cold, icy copper door handle, I stumbled over a heap of clothes stacked up on the floor. With a hmph, I wrenched the door open and sighed as my eyes laid upon my social worker's face.

Charlotte was in her mid thirties, but looked far from her age. Her bright emerald eyes popped in contrast with her smooth tan skin. Locks of thick, dark brown hair framed around her head. I'd always been jealous of the way she looked. Everyone she'd ever encountered were always drawn to her. Her spunky attitude just added to her already bright personality. Of course, I'd never disclose my envy of her to anyone.

"Can I help you?" I asked her in full irritation.

"Still sour as ever with me, I see," she replied in exasperation. Charlotte rolled her eyes and began shuffling through the manilla folder which sat in her hands. A packet of papers were pulled out of the folder and held in front of my face.

"I think I found you a family," Charlotte announced.

"And what makes you think I want a family anymore?"

Disdain laced my voice as I spewed out those exact words to my social worker. Now, I know what it may look like. I'm an ungrateful kid that doesn't realize the value of family. That's not the case of course. You see, this isn't exactly the first, or second, or even third time I'd been tossed around to another family. There are five occasions that I can remember vividly experiencing family after family, not including the times where I was too young to remember.

"Olivia, soon enough you're going to regret not taking things seriously when families start to run out. Please, I'm begging you. Just look at the papers," were Charlotte's next words to me.

Charlotte had always been the dramatic type, so engrossed in the fact that I may lose my chance at adoption. Families running out? I don't even think that's a thing.

"Sure, whatever you say Charlotte. What else have I got to lose?" My mouth pulled back into a tight, forced smile.

"Thank you. I know you won't regret it Liv," Charlotte handed me the manilla folder and began to open her mouth again. "Now don't for-"

"I know, I know. Don't forget to look through the paperwork before you set up a meeting with the-" I paused and my eyes scanned the paperwork beneath my fingertips, "-Monroe family. Be on my best behavior. Be kind and smile a lot. Wear the nicest clothes I have in my closet, and don't slouch," I monotonously replied. Like I said, I'd been through this spiel before.

With a slight chuckle, Charlotte rolled her eyes and pulled back her lips into a smile. As much as I'd like to dislike her, she's the only one I have had by my side for as long as I can remember.

"You're a good kid Liv. We'll find you a good family," wholeheartedly came her reply. She spun on her heels and started making her way down the group home hallway, shouting half way down, "See you on Monday!" With one last final wave of her hand, Charlotte disappeared around the corner.

Sighing, I made my way back towards my bed, placed in the far side corner of my bedroom. I slowly sat down and began searching through the folder in hand. Taking a deep breath in, I shut my eyes, counted to ten, and opened them again. Let's see what type of family I've gotten stuck with this time.